Visible Invisible
by jtav
Summary: Yusuke has spent his career helping people to see. Sometimes, he helps them see Sae. Disabled Sae, Asperger's Yusuke.


Sae took out a set of notecards, smiled and Yusuke, and did her best imitation of a TV presenter. "Mr. Kitagawa, could you tell us a little bit about your new show?"

Yusuke cleared his throat. "Yes. I've created my professional career by finding beauty in the things the larger society prefers to forget. The government's austerity measures have brought increased wealth to those who are already wealthy while leaving behind those who are already poor and marginalized. The homeless, orphans, bastards." His voice rose. "We don't see them because it makes us uncomfortable. We let their suffering linger for years and then we're surprised when people rebel."

He let out a breath, and his cheeks pinked. "Too strong? I got too loud again, didn't I?"

"For that audience? Regrettably, yes. Keep your voice even. Smile a lot. Eye contact. Keep the sentence about not seeing people, but keep your pitch lower."

"So lie, then?" He raked his hand through his hair. They were ten years past the Phantom Thieves and it still fell almost in front of his eyes. "I'm never going to get this. You were charming. Madarame was charming. But I can't seem to find the knack for it."

"It's practice like everything else. And I'm not charming."

"But you were. I saw the old interviews on MeTube." He fidgeted but couldn't keep the relish from his voice. "The Champion of Justice who fought against the yakuza and was incorruptible no matter the cost." He winced. "I'm sorry. I just, thought looking up your old interviews would help me prepare since neither of us are exactly extroverts."

"It's okay." Sae gave him another smile, but a familiar pain worked its way up her leg. She had been the Champion of Justice long ago, the young prosecutor who was going to end corruption and organized crime for good. The public had loved her just like they would love Akechi and the Phantom Thieves later. Then the yakuza had come from her and her father. They had killed him, but a firebomb had left her barely alive. It had taken Makoto, Yusuke, and their friends to heal her heart, but the limp and the scars that criscrossed the right half of her body had never healed at all. "It is just practice. And life with Madarame gave you a lot of bad habits to unlearn."

"And the Asperger's. I mustn't forget that." His smile was tinged with bitterness. "Madarame never did."

Sae dug her nails into her leg. She wished that she wasn't an officer of the court so that she could give Madarame differently. "It's merely a different way of looking at the world. And I love the way you look at the world."

His smile softened. "I know that intellectually. Someday I may believe it in my heart as well." He strained. "I suppose I must keep trying then. To keep him from having the last word."

"And for the sake of everyone else with Asperger's or autism who doesn't think they can be an artist. That's why the Ministry of Justice did everything they could to make me a media celebrity, and why I did those interviews even though I hated them. Because the Progressives in the shadow cabinet and I both agreed that girls seeing a female prosecutor on television was important." It had cost her far more than it ever should have, but she still agreed with them.

"For their sake, then, and for every child who feels unwanted." He inhaled. "Next question."

They spent the next hour running likely questions and practicing patter. They came up with anecdotes that would endear him without disclosing things that were too painful. His eye contact was good and his tone was even, and his courtly politeness would be an asset with a certain kind of female viewer. He had come so far from the too-thin teenager who had asked if he could use her as a model because her eyes were such a contrast with the rest of her.

"I'm starved. Do you want some lunch?"

Yusuke perked visibly at the mention of lunch, and Sae had her answer. "If you're up to going out, I'm feeling indulgent. Steak at the usual place?"

"I need to get back in time to review some reports, but steak sounds lovely."

He frowned. "I don't want you overtired. We can eat in."

Sae waved him away. When she had first woken up in the hospital and saw what her body had become, she thought that the pain in the scars were the worst part. But the worst part was the way that pain stole her energy and forced her to plan everything and ration herself as if it were wartime. "I can manage it if I take something and we don't do anything too physical for the rest of the day."

Yusuke looked at her skeptically, but nodded and forty-five minutes later they were at the cafe in Shibuya. He had discovered it that fateful year, and they had both made in a regular hangout. The coffee wasn't nearly as good as Leblanc's but the steak was delicious and reminded her of the times mother would cook it on the rare occasions that her family had been able to afford it. But the best part was that it was familiar. She knew exactly how high the step up to the door was. Yusuke knew when it was at its quietest so he wouldn't get overstimulated. And most people at least pretended not to stare.

Most of the time. The waitress was new, and her gaze kept starting to Sae even when she was taking Yusuke's order. Sae kept her gaze resolutely ahead. If she pretended that she was normal, most of the time people would play along.

"And for you, ma'am. I assume you want the burned sirloin?" She blushed. "Excuse me. I mean well-done. Nothing burned here. Of course not."

"Well done is fine."

"My apologies." Her voice came faster and until her words were practically tripping over each other. "I'm just—well, I've never seen someone like you before."

Sae grit her teeth. Sometimes she could delude herself that she had accommodated herself to her disability, just like Yusuke had found a way to manage his Asperger's. She was happily married and a reasonably successful defense attorney who could afford the best in life. But for all her success in and out of the courtroom, she would always be "someone like you": disfigured, a cripple.

Yusuke's eyes flashed. "My wife isn't a circus pony to be stared at. No one is. You would never speak that way to another patron."

The manager, a thin woman in her sixties, marched toward their booth. "What seems to be the problem here?"

Other patrons were finally starting to stare. Just what they needed. "Just a curious teenager being curious. No problem at all."

"I see. Have a free coffee on us." She turned to glare at the waitress. "These people are regulars. You don't bother them, no matter how they look."

Sae did her best to concentrate on her dinner after that. Yusuke's eyes were dark and he cut his steak with more force than necessary. Sometimes, it seemed he took the rudeness and curiosity of strangers even harder than she did. Sae touched his hand after he cut hard enough for the knife to hit the plate. "It's all right."

"No it's not. I had to teach myself how to be courteous, but other people can't even be bothered. You are not some curiosity. I wish I could make them see all of you."

 _Me too._ "It's enough that you do."

He smiled, too wide and too practiced. "All your courage, kindness, and intelligence. That's what should make them stare."

Sae swallowed. She didn't deserve the man in front of her after wallowing around in cruelty and bitterness for three years, but he seemed to see the best in her despite all that. "You're wrong. You're the charming one."

"More polite lies, but thank you for saying them." He took her hand and squeezed.

By the time they returned home, pain and irritation had left Sae feeling drained, and she leaned on her cane more heavily than she would have liked. Yusuke was at her side, not quite touching her and waiting to rescue her from a false step. She shuffled toward the bedroom. "Could you bring me my briefcase? I still need to look some documents over before court tomorrow."

"You need to rest."

Sae shook her head in mingled exasperation and affection. Yusuke could be so sweet, but he could also be as protective as a mother hen if he thought something was wrong. So could she. The perils of looking out for each other. "I'll look the documents over in bed, and I will take a nap as soon as I'm done. Fair enough?"

"At least let me make you some tea."

"Deal."

Sae changed out of her blazer and into her nightgown with as much grace as she could muster. The brace was as bulky and hot as ever, and it was a relief to take the thing off, slide in the bed, and prop herself on pleasantly fluffy pillows, even if she was analyzing blood splatter patterns. The pain didn't so much recede as it was pushed to one side as her world narrowed to one of facts and how to use them to convince the prosecutor that conviction wasn't certain and he would be better off dismissing the charges.

A soft intake of breath and the clatter of china on wood brought her back to the present. Yusuke stood in the doorway, watching her, and the promised tea on the dresser. His face was soft, but his eyes were bright, and she could almost see his mind whirring. "You're beautiful," he whispered, and she didn't know if he was speaking as her husband and lover or as an artist. But then, it was difficult to separate the two.

Sae looked down at her misshapen leg. She was in the only place in the world, with one of the two people in the world, where she could put herself on display as she truly was and feel no shame. She had modeled for Yusuke many times over the last decade, but always in a business suit with her hair hiding the rough edges of the scarring. She knew that his love and admiration for her made her beautiful to him, and she didn't doubt that love, but it wasn't the same as understanding. "What do you see when you look at me like this?"

"What do I see?" He fidgeted. "You, doing your work?"

"And that's beautiful?"

"Yes. I—you're always beautiful but this is different." A flush crept along his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm no good with words. A poor thing when an artist's success depends so much on working the room."

"It was a silly question. I don't understand most of the art reviews either."

But Yusuke still frowned. "May I show you? You've given me an idea for a piece."

"I don't think I'm up for modeling."

"Just stay where you are. Keep working. Rest. Do whatever you need to." He was gone before Sae could open her mouth to respond.

He returned several moments later with his sketchbook, some color pencils, and a sheepish expression. "I forgot to give you your tea," he said and handed her the offending cup and saucer. "I apologize. I was overcome with inspiration."

Sae sipped her tea. The warmth took the edge off the pain and fatigue, and she sighed happily. "Thank you. But I still won't be able to model for you. I don't think I could hold a pose for longer than a minute."

"I don't require a reference as such. I can keep your movements and expression in my mind quite well. It's the advantage of watching you so often." He winced. "That was awkwardly phrased."

To hell with being an officer of the court. She was going to find a way to punch Madarame's teeth down his throat for making Yusuke so hesitant. "It's good to have someone who loves me enough to keep me in his mind so well. And now I'm curious what you have planned."

"Just a small piece. Pretend I'm not here."

That was easier said than done. Sae alternated her attention between her tea and the police reports, but Yusuke was always there at the edge of her vision. She dared to steal a glance. He was focused on his work as usual, but it was more than focus. His gaze peeled her back layer by layer: her nightgown, the scars, whatever remained of Leviathan's defense mechanisms, until only Sae remained. The only sounds were the scratch of pencil on paper and the rustling as he exchanged black for red and yellow.

Sae raised an eyebrow and she looked around the bedroom that was all white sheets and pastel wallpapers. The red might be explained by her scars if he was including those, but the yellow? "What exactly are you doing?"

Yusuke didn't seem to hear her, lost in his own world as she had been lost in hers. She sighed and returned her attention to her own work.

"There," Yusuke announced much more quickly than she had expected. "A bit technically rough, but I think the theme comes through. I'll do a cleaner piece later."

"May I see? You can't be so mysterious and then not show me when it's done."

"As you wish." He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch her injured leg. There was a familiar tension in his shoulders. "It's not precisely experimental, but it's not representational either."

It was her, lying in bed as she was now, poring over the documents. The lines were rough, but that wasn't the remarkable thing. Most of the scene had been simply shaded in muted tones, but the briefcase by the bed had been done in a rich black and gold. Her scars were gold too: red and gold like the streamers she saw during festival season. Flames that drew the eye, vibrant and alive. "Beautiful," she whispered.

He didn't seem to hear. "I wasn't quite sure about it, but with all that talk about what people did and didn't see, I wanted to draw a connection between the scarring and you at work. Force them to realize that you are a brilliant lawyer and a wife lounging in her nightclothes. Make them see all of you in all of your glory."

Sae's vision wavered and water burned on her cheek. She wiped it away and pulled Yusuke down for a soft kiss. "It's beautiful. You made me beautiful."

He pulled back and cocked his head to one side. "I was merely trying to capture what I saw when I looked at you. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

The words wouldn't come, so Sae pulled him in for another kiss. His hands rested carefully on shoulders, but his mouth was quick and eager on hers as she enjoyed teasing his every sensitive spot and drawing gasps from him. When they finally pulled back, his lips were pleasantly swollen. Pride and pleasure spiked through Sae as she looked on her own handiwork. "Yes, that's what I wanted," she said. "You are what I want."

His eyes widened. "I don't want you to overexert yourself."

"I won't." She smiled at him, and enjoyed the shiver that passed over him. "I'll simply have to get creative."


End file.
